Ms Mary
by TheRealAugustus
Summary: A prequal to the original Clock tower, my version of what happened to lead ms mary to what she became. This story is told through mary's POV, there is a really gorey scene to come soon that may offend, but the story just wont work without it.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Why did I marry him? To this day I still don't know why, he was always so weak, how did I not notice that for so long? Scared of the crows, scared of the scissors, scared of me. What a pathetic excuse for a man, he didn't have the energy to do anything for himself, hired servants for all his little tasks, spent my money on pointless things!

It was all because of my wretched mother, she forced me into that life! I was 18, ready to go out and rule the world! I don't like to remember how secure and ambitious I felt back then, it makes me feel sick to my stomach. In the end that feeling meant nothing anyway. She wanted a grandchild so much, probably because I was so worthless in her eyes, could she see the future? Could she see what I would become?

She forced me to marry that man, that man called Simon, so that one day I could have my own children and she would be a grandmother. She must have felt the way I feel now, she must have hated me and my father just the way I hate Simon. When the marriage was arranged I was content, there was no use struggling against my mothers wishes, and starting a new family seemed inevitable. Simon seemed respectable enough, so why not?

Not long into the marriage I realised that I barely even saw him. He went off drinking practically every night, drove miles just to get away from me and be with his scum friends. Leaving me all alone in that big house… god I hate being alone, a woman is nothing if she is lonely. I was not a wife, not really, nor was I a child, a sister, a friend… a mother.

I was nothing to anyone and I couldn't stand it. Why wouldn't god bless me with a child? Lord knows I tried. Of all the things I have done for happiness lying below that disgusting slob was by no doubt the foulest!

I despised that man! I married him for love, a family. And In the end what did I get? Nothing. He was infertile, incapable of the thing I needed him for, and that's why I hated him.

You have to understand that I felt so trapped, maybe if I had married another man then things would be different, then my life would finally tick and I would feel like the woman, the mother I so deserve to be! No, there was no use in fantasising, I am not a fool! It wasn't the end for me there I wouldn't let it be!

My father was always so harsh, hitting me for doing something wrong, even at the age of first steps. But in the end he gave me so much, he gave me myself. He gave me my personality and my strength, most of all he gave me the opportunity to be better than other people, to be superior. But no, instead I fell into this spiral of dread and loneliness.

When he died it felt as though the roof of my house came crashing down onto me, no matter how I look at it, he was the source of my power. Now he is dead, maybe I'm not so strong after all, maybe I'm weak and pathetic and deserve a life like this. Those were my thoughts back then, but soon after one event changed my life forever.

I'm Mary barrows, and I'm here to tell my story.


	2. Birds and Barrows

Chapter 1

~ Birds and Barrows ~

Memories are strange things, aren't they? It's amazing how many events a single person can recall, with just a quick search through their brain. It's the sad memories we think about more often. As is human nature I suppose. We evolved too much, got acquired/developed so much intelligence we don't know what to do with it, and so we gained the ability to mourn, to cry about the past. Nobody can help it, not even me.

A million things have happened to me in my life, happy and sad, but on that day something extraordinary happened. When I think about that day -- I mean really think about it -- the walls around me start to crumble and my hair feels like its falling out. It's as if nothing else matters. Nothing except that one memory matters…

The thing is, that day sticks out at me constantly, as if it's waiting for something; as if it's waiting for me to finally understand what it was trying to tell me -- waiting for me to take action?

Indeed, memories are strange things, but this is more than a memory, this is something that is still happening to me now. Well maybe not physically, but on the inside, in my brain, it's still the 7th of July 1987.

~~~

It was a bright summers day at the barrows mansion, this could be seen especially in the garden. All of the plants had bloomed; apple trees and strawberries, and beautiful flowers, now fully opened, were facing the sun. It was a sight that would make any normal person smile. Roses, daffodils, Dandelions, Tulips and Daisies. Miss Mary had spent years perfecting her garden and it really showed. Just about every beautiful flower ever discovered resided in the mansion, Mary certainly had a love for them. Just about every beautiful flower that would thrive in such an environment could be found there; Mary's love for each and every one of them was undeniable.

Despite everything, There was something in her garden Mary despised though, the birds.

"Dirty little things," Mary thought out loud, "nothing but rats with wings."

Mary was sat on a nice nice is too informal lawn chair outside, taking in the sun. She was a very tanned woman every summer, she hated being too pale.

"Always been like that, Mary" an unwelcome voice in the background said said an unwelcome voice in the background, "hating anything that is no use to you."

"It's not that Simon," Mary said, almost spitting out his name, "It's the way they carelessly drop their leavings on the floor all over the world, it's disgusting, have they no shame?"

This brought some sort of half curve people generally know what a smile looks like, and this description is slightly awkward anyway smile to Simons face. A mocking one, Mary thought.

"Aint got a big enough brain for shame I should think," Simon said.

"Maybe that's it," Mary replied, "Maybe they anger me so much because they are so carefree, they aren't cursed with the thoughts us people carry."

At this, Simon raised an eyebrow at this, though he was used to his wife being so pessimistic.

"So you want that then? To be a bird?" He asked.

"Certainly not! Just look at them Simon! Disgusting foul little creatures. Their lives have absolutely no meaning! They are just pooped out of their mother, spend the next few years flying around doing nothing, and then die in a field somewhere," She said, "Assuming they don't get shot of course".

"If you were a bird, then you could fly," James reasoned. For some reason he liked to push these things.

"Ah, but where would I fly to Simon?" Mary asked.

"Why anywhere you want to my dear, live in the spur of the moment! Go anywhere whenever you want too! Brilliant life is one off a bird," He answered.

"Anywhere? Anywhere?" Mary said in a somewhat mocking/nagging tone, "Oh yes Simon, maybe I could fly to the nice bird spa, see if there is anything to read at the local bird library."

Simon frowned, then rolled his eyes.

"Honestly Simon, what a stupid thing to say," Mary added.

And with that, the conversation came to a close. Simon marched off back into the house, supposedly to his dark study room.

He spent most of his time in that study room actually. You see, Simon barrows was actually a very bright man who had a keen interest in science. In his study room there was a computer, a fireplace, and lots of books. Mary didn't like this room, even though in truth it was very good looking and comfy. She hated it because it was like a foreign world to her. Seemed like nonsense, seemed pointless.

When Mary was feeling particularly down -- for whatever reason -- she would often visit her gallery room. Today was no exception.

Mary walked in and turned on the light. It had a little flicker for a while before turning fully on, it was like that, in fact all the lights in the barrows mansion were faulty. It was a very old house after all, ancient.

Lined up were portraits of her family throughout history. It went back as far as 1850. That's more than a hundred years. Indeed, it was quite a sight to behold and certainly something to be proud of.

The name barrows always stuck, it was their privilege. You see, in Norway -- if a family is rich -- they can keep their names, even through their daughter's marriages. And so Simon took Mary's name.

Mary sighed and went to the end of the line, up to a picture of her father and mother.

"I miss you daddy," She said, stroking the picture, "I wish we could get back the time that was stolen from us".

It was rare, but Mary would sometimes talk to the picture of her father. Many say that's the first sign of going mad, but she can't be blamed. It seems she has nobody else to talk too.

"I was thinking today daddy, about my life y'no," Mary said into the portrait,"It's not exactly what I thought it would be and… I don't know what to do…"

Mary had her hand rested on the side of the picture and she spoke softly.

"The thing is daddy, me and Simon… we can't have children," Mary said, as if she was confessing to a crime. After a moment of silence Mary raised her voice, "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry father! It's not my fault I swear! I want children, I want them so much! But! , But! , it's him! It's all Simons fault! He's infertile father! He is a failure and it's all his fault!"

The air poured out of her voice box making some sort of gasp or scream and she fell on her knees. No tears, instead she wore something of a shocked expression, like she had just seen a ghost. Her mouth was wide open and her eyes were stretched.


End file.
